


and maybe you'll find a way to keep me a floating when i can't

by LazyBaker



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/F, Fem!Harringrove, Female Billy Hargrove, Female Steve Harrington
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-25 14:36:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18576487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyBaker/pseuds/LazyBaker
Summary: Billie’s tough. Nothing but sharp edges with sharper teeth. She’s all bark and all bite.Steph’s fought monsters. She may have had her nose ground into a linoleum floor by Billie, but she’s not scared of her.





	and maybe you'll find a way to keep me a floating when i can't

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trashcangimmick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashcangimmick/gifts).



Steph drops Dustin off at the Snowball Dance and drives to Stacy’s McKenzie’s house for the high school’s version of the junior high dance.

The party’s packed. She chugs two red cups worth of watered down beer. She fucks the first guy who talks to her. Ricky Shannon, a junior quarterback who she knows has a crush on her by the way he can’t quite look her in the eyes but manages to stare at her chest till sunrise.

She lets Shannon take her in the bathroom upstairs. He lasts for barely two minutes—he’s probably a virgin and since Steph is the new Steph who dated Nate Wheeler and not the old Steph who wouldn’t care and would probably laugh at him afterwards, she feels a little bad.

She doesn’t come though. She’s too dry and Shannon just shoves in and goes for it. She wraps her hand around the edge of the vanity and refuses to think about Nate at the dance looking handsome in his suit and studies the different shaped seashell soaps in a bowl by the sink.

There’s a pink scallop one that’s cute and catches her eye. She waits until Shannon’s done and after he asks if it was all right for her—she lies and says _yeah_ because it’s a whole conversation otherwise—and once he’s gone and the bathroom door is shut, she shoves the soap into one of the pockets of her jean skirt.

Steph drinks some more. She manages to get a toke from the joint Tommy H. is sharing with Carol before she hightails it away from them. It’s not that she hates them, it’s just _weird_. They’re not really friends anymore, but if Steph isn’t friends with Tommy H. or Carol then she has no friends left. It’s the downside to having a boyfriend and then getting dumped, all the friends she ignored for the last year aren’t exactly jumping for her attention anymore.

She’s shitty. She knows she is. She’s also really, wonderfully speeding right down the road to getting wasted so she finds another guy—Pete Something.

All she can remember about him other than she’s _pretty sure_ he’s a senior and that he _definitely_ has a dick and it’s _totally_ hard the second she puts a hand on his chest and smiles down at him is that he’s a twin and his brother goes to a school in another state because of _issues_ , which in a small town can either mean he set fire to someone’s barn or he’s gay.

Pete Something isn’t any better than Shannon. Steph is left frustrated and more sober than she’d like. Getting off on her own isn’t going to do it. She’s too _everything_ for that. She wants Nate. She keeps picturing Nate fucking Joan Byers.

There’s this looming sensation inside of her, driving her to not be alone, to runaway from this cold that’s rotting her insides. There’s nothing worse than this. She sort of wants to cry or throw up. The last month has been a lot of crying, though.

Steph throws up in Stacy McKenzie’s bedroom, all over her pretty pink duvet. She rinses her mouth out and puts a line of—hopefully Stacy McKenzie’s—toothpaste on her finger to brush her teeth. Gives her red eyed reflection an exasperated look. Pockets another seashell. A little purple one. She has no idea what she’s going to do with them. Not wash her hands with them. They’re too cute for that.

Dustin’s getting a ride home from Mrs. Byers after the dance. Steph’s got the night to herself and that’s the worst thing she could imagine having.

The party keeps going and Steph refuses to let herself cry or feel bad or think about Nate anymore than she already has so she drinks and she dances and she shoves herself into any conversation she can, terrified of any pause.

She stumbles outside at some point, red cup in one hand and a third shell in the other. It’s a conch, she thinks as she shoves it into her pocket. She’s only ever been to the beach once and it had been on one of her dad’s business trips where he went to his meetings and Steph was left to get sunburnt on her own and build ugly sand castles while her mom read under the shade of her purple umbrella.

The backyard is dark, only lit from the light coming from inside. Steph doesn’t quite remember _why_ she’s out there, but the cold doesn’t sober her up nearly as quick as spotting Billie Hargrove.

Billie’s sitting by herself on one of the patio lounge chairs.

They haven’t talked since the fight at the Byers’ house. Billie’s avoided her. She hasn’t snapped Steph’s bra straps when they pass in the halls or lifted Steph’s skirt for all the cafeteria to see or called Steph _cute_ and _pretty_ when she really meant _not as pretty as me_.

Billie’s tough. Nothing but sharp edges with sharper teeth. She’s all bark and all bite.

Steph’s fought monsters. She may have had her nose ground into a linoleum floor by Billie, but she’s not scared of her.

Billie’s in jeans and her leather bomber jacket, knees up to her chest. She exhales a big plume of smoke when Steph comes up to her.

They look at each other for a long, stretched out while. Outside at night during the winter it’s dead quiet. No crickets. No dogs. Nothing. Just the muffled sound of Queen being played from inside and the sound of Billie’s breath when she blows smoke into Steph’s face.

Steph expects to be told to _fuck off_ or at least snarled at. Billie just looks up at her through dusky eyes that look black.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here all by your lonesome?” Billie finally says. Bored.

Hardly a few seconds pass before she looks away, done with Steph before she even answers and Steph is drunk enough, on edge enough, needy enough, lonely enough to be miffed off about being discarded so quick.

“To party, obviously.” Steph says, waving her hand around the deserted backyard. “You sharing?”

“You want some?”

“No, that’s why I asked.” Steph says. Billie cracks a smile, crooked and not all that happy. Steph hadn’t seen her inside. Billie probably avoided her. Steph probably just didn’t notice her, too busy trying to get off and failing.

For some reason, though, she doubts either one is what actually happened.

Steph wraps her arms around herself. She should’ve worn jeans. Nylon and a skirt is crappy winter-wear.

“Why’re you out here anyways?”

“Wanted to see if I could freeze to death.”

“Jeez.”

“Yep.” Billie says. She takes another puff, holding it in, leaning her head back she blows the smoke up. “Heard you fucked the quarterback—he looks like a guy with a tiny wang.”

“I mean—”

“And that one guy—the one with the freaky twin.”

It’s amazing how quick word spreads. Hawkins at its finest.

Steph’s not about to deny it since there isn’t any point. She likes sex. She likes how it makes her feel. Before Nate, she used to fuck _a lot_ of different guys. Being popular and being hated all at once.

Now, she’s just a rumor and then she’s ignored.

“So?”

Billie just shrugs.

Steph waits for the insults, but Billie’s back to smoking and brushing Steph off. That’s it. No calling Steph a _slut_ , no nothing. It’s weird, not what she’d expect from anyone around here. California must be different. Or maybe Billie is.

Steph’s never heard Billie putting out for anyone.

The first week here she made head cheerleader and started dating the captain of the football team, Mitch Brooks. She’s got her own car. Sarah Jessica Parker curls. Red lipstick that never wears off. Tight jeans and a push up bra she wears everywhere. Big tits. Nice ass. _She’s hot._ And never even a rumor about her.

Steph nods to the joint pinched between Billie’s fingers. Her nails are painted black.

“Well? You really gonna hog all of it?”

Billie cocks her head, curls falling over her eyes and taps at her chin. “I don’t know, maybe. Maybe not.”

“Ugh. Like, big time ugh.”

“That’s not a _please_.”

“I’m not saying _please_ to the chick who didn’t even say _sorry_.”

There’s too much bite to what Steph says so she fidgets with her hair, brushing it back behind her ears and out of her face. There’s a lot of anger inside of her that comes out in tears or wanting to get held down and get off, but most of that pit inside of her isn’t because of Billie.

Still doesn’t change the fact that Billie’s obnoxious and Steph really did like catching her off guard and punching her in the face.

“So feisty, jesus.” Billie says.

She takes another pull. She closes her eyes, her thick lashes fanning out on her cheeks. Steph shifts on her feet. December in Hawkins is always so cold, she can see her breath when she exhales. There’s no snow yet. She thinks Billie’s nose is red, her cheeks too.

“How about this,” Billie stretches out on the chair, kicking out her legs so they’re lying flat on the plastic. She holds up the joint. “You can have the rest, if you let me do something.”

Steph waits. Billie waits too. Steph rolls her eyes. “ _Like?_ ”

Billie gives her this weird look, not giving anything away. Her shoulders are a tense straight line. It sets Steph on edge, the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Danger is afoot and Steph’s already had her fill.

When Billie talks her voice is pitched low, her head lolled to the side, lips wrapped around the joint.

“Like,” Billie says drawls, her words coming out as slow as the smoke rolling from her lips, “let me kiss you.”

Steph stares at her. “What?”

“You heard me, baby girl.”

“But.” Steph’s never been smart. She’s never caught on quick even when the world’s about to go to literal hell. She’s missing something. She must be.

 _Baby girl_. Steph’s entire self stutters to a stop.

But Billie isn’t budging. Stubborn and full of herself and a puzzle Steph’s not even sure where to start with, Steph shouldn’t have expected any differently.

Billie pats her lap. The world nearly ended twice. Steph just fucked two guys at the same party. Nate called her _bullshit_. Billie’s nothing to be scared of.

Steph hikes up her skirt and straddles Billie’s thighs and braces herself on the back of the chair. This close she can almost see the blue in her irises. Her curls pick up the yellow light from the house making her look like someone angelic.

Steph licks her lips, readying herself. She studies Billie’s lips. Thick and shiny with lipstick. She wouldn’t put it past Billie to bite her.

Steph leans in and Billie pokes her in the nose, stopping her. Steph goes crosseyed looking at her finger and then at Billie.

Billie shakes her head, shifting from solemn to that sharp toothed girl who knows everything Steph doesn’t. She leans up, her curls are soft on Steph’s cheek and Steph can smell her perfume—it smells like cologne, something a guy would wear.

“I never said anything about kissing you on the mouth.” Billie whispers in her ear, making Steph shiver and squeeze her thighs together around Billie’s legs.

Shakily, Steph says, “where else would you—?”

“Somewhere good, I promise.” Billie says. Her finger trails down Steph—touching her lips, running down her neck, the dip between her collar bones, and stopping on the middle of her chest. Steph swallows.

“You promise?” Steph shakes her head. The cold is waking her up, the beer haze is slipping from her and reality just keeps getting weirder. “What am I supposed to do with a promise from you?”

“I know I’m a bitch, but I've never lied to you.” Billie says simply. She puts the joint out on the pavement, sets it down then puts her hands on Steph’s hips. She has long fingers with short, blunt nails. She rubs these small circles into Steph’s skin, inching her way inward, settling Steph’s anxieties and making her want to cling.

Billie’s never lied. Out of all the people in her life, Billie might be the only one who’s never lied to her.

Steph puts her hands on Billie’s shoulders, sits fully on Billie’s lap, her skirt riding up further, beginning to pinch.

Billie's eyebrow cocks up, she pulls out one of the soaps from Steph's pocket. _What the hell is this?_ is what her eyebrow seems to say.

"Shut up." Steph says, blushing and glaring. Billie laughs, shaking her head. Puts the soap back where she found it.

Steph checks to see—the backdoor is still shut, no one’s looking out the windows, Freddie Mercury is still singing. Billie and Steph are truly by their lonesome out here.

Billie slides her hands up under Steph’s shirt—her hands are cold and make Steph gasp, arching forward, when they make their way around her back, from the dip of her spine and up making Steph’s eyes flutter shut. Billie undoes the snaps of her bra with a touch it seems, no fumbling like Nate or any other boy.

This is going to be _different_ , Steph thinks. Different and maybe even good.

Billie pushes up Steph’s shirt and bra, exposing her chest to the winter air and it’s so amazingly cold. Her nipples stiffen immediately, her heart is making a racket in her ears. Steph digs her fingers into Billie’s shoulders on instinct then makes herself loosen her hold finger by finger, clutches instead at Billie’s leather jacket.

Billie doesn’t notice, she’s staring. Biting the corner of her lip. Hands on Steph’s side. Staring and staring and staring—Steph nearly whimpers.

She’s not as big as Billie or the rest of the girls in the squad. Tiny compared to Joan Byers. Guys never seemed to care all that much, all too excited with the fact that they were getting to second base. Nate hadn’t been with anyone before her. He _liked_ her tits. She thinks he did.

But she hadn’t been enough in the end and Billie—she’s keeps looking. Steph has no idea what to think. If this is some joke, some way to fuck with her.

In this moment, ever since she became bullshit, Steph’s been too tall. Hands too big. Ass too flat. Chest too small. Not enough where it counts. Too much where she shouldn’t be. Billie must see the stretch marks and the freckles and moles.

“Do it.” Steph tells her. She wants to cross her arms. Hide her face in Billie’s neck, under all her blonde curls. Goosebumps light up her skin. A flush works its way down her face to her chest, makes her cunt throb.

Steph’s arms must twitch, there must be something in her eyes that hints at what she’s feeling when Billie looks up at her, looks her in the eye, and leans in to brush her lips against the peak of her nipple and kisses her. Sweetly and nice and everything Billie isn’t supposed to be. Not who Steph thought she was.

Steph makes this noise—a gasp, a whine. Billie’s mouth is scorching when she opens it to lick Steph, tongue going around and around her nipple, lighting her up, and when she pulls off and leans back, hands sliding down Steph’s side to settle back on Steph’s hips. Steph is left to shake in the cold and stare.

Billie pulls the lighter out of her jacket and lights the joint, takes a pull and holds it up to Steph’s lips. The air’s turned into molasses. Winter has become summer. Steph can’t seem to catch her breath. Her lips touch Billie’s fingers when she takes the joint.

“You’re really. . .” Billie trails off, watching Steph. Maybe it’s wonder in her eyes. Maybe she’s just high. She reaches up and touches Steph’s nipple. There’s red lipstick lips on her tit, around her nipple and Steph jerks with her entire body when Billie touches her, smearing it with her thumb.

Steph squeezes her thighs around Billie’s. She’s wet. She’s a chord that’s been strummed. She shoves her shirt and bra back into place. The world’s been tilted and she’s not entirely sure she’ll be able to stand when she moves.

But Billie’s the one who slides herself out from under Steph, who can plant her feet better than anyone else, and leaves Steph sitting in a stupor on the patio chair in the lonely, dark backyard without a glance, watching Billie go back inside, a jackrabbit kicking in her chest.

Steph rubs her legs together. She's warm. She’s so _warm._

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Make it Out Alive" by Nao, SiR
> 
> [tumblr](http://granpappy-winchester.tumblr.com) and [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/cannibear)


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